


And Now I Just Sit In Silence

by orphan_account



Series: Car Radio [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Agender Kenma, Cancer, Hospital, dont look at me, sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:52:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes quiet is violent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Now I Just Sit In Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This was just written on a whim while I waited in a line so please forgive th numerous spelling and grammatical errors that occurred as a result of writing it on a phone. 
> 
> The work title is a reference to the Twenty One Pilots song 'Car Radio'

Death had never been a major fear; it was the sort of thing that happened to people far older than them, a distant possibility. There was no use dwelling on it.

Reality tended to catch up to them far too quickly these passing months.

Cancer; in the throat, the bowels, the lungs. Diagnosis: fatal.

Kenma told themselves there was nothing they could do; that it wasn't their fault, they had no way of knowing, they shouldn't hold themselves responsible. But you can only stare at blank hospital walls for so long before they begin to grow menacing.

Short thoughts - the kind that too easily slip past, wriggling their way through any resolve and struggling back out before they could be trapped and dissected. 'Why didn't I notice that shortness of breath, that hitched step, that slow jump? If only I'd paid more attention, looked closer, cared more.'

Sometimes quiet is violent; sometimes you want nothing more than words, words to fill the spaces between shuddering breaths, words that dance and laugh and heal. A place like this, a time like this, is not one for healing. The words do not come, the only sound permeating the silence that of the unrelentless beeping of pieces of medical equipment with complicated names.

They run their fingers across dry skin, the backs of cold hands, hands that hand still and lifeless, a far cry from the time when they would have wrapped around their own.

"Kuroo ..." their quiet voice flits throughout the room, a baby bird with broken wings, struggling to take flight. There's no reply, of course there isn't, but Kenma spoke without any expectation of one. There hasn't been any replies for a long time. It's more the simple act of speech that they need, something to break the all-permeating silence, to prove to themself that they are still alive.

That the sight of pale hands flat against the stark white of the sheets, had not broken them.

They were lying to themselves - they were broken, broken beyond repair by the sudden ripping away of one entirely intrinsic to their life, their happiness. Kuroo - Kuroo was their everything. He was the one who supported them, looked out for him, understood him in a way no-one else ever had or would. And now ... now what were they meant to do? Waste away to nothing? Follow him into the darkness?

This moment, this eternity of a second, told Kenma they could never be truly happy again. How could there be any joy left in their life after an event like this? How could they ever bring themselves to be happy when Kuroo was lying stiff and cold beneath the earth?The concept that life could continue on as it was before seemed too ludicrous to process.

Squeezing their eyes shut, knees pulling closer towards their chest, and Kenma let out a shuddering breath. There had still been no tears. If the tears started they were unsure if they would ever be able to stop them. Instead, there was a stinging pain behind their eyes and a lump in their throat that wouldn't move.

There's a saying that your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die, and Kenma found themself wondering if that rang true for the fate of others; because behind their eyes there was a constant playback of scenes and a flashing of images, every moment that the two of them had shared, the many many memories that were now all they would have of Kuroo the way he had been, the way he should be.

This - this sunken cheeked, blue lipped, hairless shell; this was not Kuroo. It couldn't be - that spark that was so intrinsic to his being, that energy, the excitement, was gone. Kuroo had gone - Kuroo in the most important sense. What was left - it was hardly as if it mattered.The truth of Kuroo had already died, and this was just a painful reminder of that fact.

And yet, Kenma still couldn't make themselves let go of his hand. It was the tether, the one thing left that was holding Kuroo to them. It was a reminder of better times, a distant memory of when this hand was warm and strong.

Eyes closed, head bowed, they shivered violently, cold eating through the thin fabric of a uniform that now meant very little. If they could hold him to life with the weight of their hand, they could force themselves to stay here forever.

But as it was, there was nothing to do except sit and wait for the beeping to bleed into silence.


End file.
